


Cold Ethyl

by AngelaChristian



Series: Steven [1]
Category: Alice Cooper (Musician) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Serial Killer, negrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-17
Updated: 2011-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaChristian/pseuds/AngelaChristian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don´t trust strangers and don´t trust dates , either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Ethyl

**Author's Note:**

> This is one more story about the serial killer Steven; "Some folks", "Cold Ethyl", "No more mister nice guy" and Vengance is mine" are parts of my series about Steven.

Header  
Title : Cold Ethyl  
Rating: 16  
warning: implied negrophilia  
Genre: Horror, songfic  
Beta : di _glossia, Thanks !  
Disclaimer : This songfic is based on the song "Cold Ethyl" taken from "Welcome to my nightmare" by Alice Cooper, I don´t make money with it, the character "Steven" is owned by Alice Cooper as well.  
Summary : Don´t trust strangers and don´t trust dates , either.

Cold Ethyl

Tina, Sandy and Lisa were standing in the dressing room, getting ready for the rehearsal when Nora entered the room. The girls giggled when they looked at her.

Nora: “Is there something on my face? Or did I miss a joke?”

Tina: “Is it true, that Steven wants to go out with you? I heard some rumors…”

Nora: “Yes, that’s right. He asked me to go out with him.”

Sandy: “But you won’t go, will you? You wouldn’t date ‘I slept with the whole ensemble’ Steven?”

Nora: “He seems to nice. I don’t think he’s that bad, just a bit strange maybe…”

Lisa: “He’s always nice when a new girl joins, until he gets what he wanted. I heard it from Sabrina that he asked her to do really sick things that she’d never talk about. But, thank God, I already had a boyfriend so he’s not interested in me.”

Nora, tying her ballet shoes: “I don’t care about rumors. He was so gentle when dancing with me; there can’t be anything wrong with him at all.”

Two days later, Nora and Steven meet at a restaurant.

Nora, shy: “It’s nice to be here with you. I like this place.”

Adult voice in Steven’s head: “She’s perfect for what I have planned.”

Steven, sweet and gentle: “I like being here with you, too. How did a pretty girl like you becom a dancer?”  
Nora, blushing: “Thank you. When I was a little girl, everybody told me I look like a perfect ballerina so I had to try. Those people were right: I had the talent.”

Steven, laughing: “Nobody ever said anything like that about me. They called me a gay pervert at best, but I’m not gay.”

Nora laughed, too.

Adult voice: “But they were right, you are a pervert, Steven. Don’t tell me it’s the art you’re interested in: it’s all about the girls.”

Steven: “Would you like to come home with me?”

Nora surprised, pretending to be shocked: “Steven, we hardly know each other, even the girls are worried. They warned me about you.”

Steven, calming her: “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I just want to practice some very special positions with you.”

Nora, pretending to be relieved: “Ok, if it’s just work we’re talking about…”

At Steven’s apartment:

Steven, opening the door: “Welcome. Feel free to be yourself.”  
Both took a seat on the couch in the living room. Steven lit some candles on the table next to the couch. The room was furnished with light wooden boards filled with books and some stone sculptures. On the walls there were several modern abstract paintings.

Nora: “I like your apartment.”

Steven put his arm around her. With the hand of his free arm, he pushed some buttons on a remote controle. Classical music started to play. "I’d like you right here and now.”

Nora, teasing: “You really don’t waste any time.”

Steven, cool: “Tempus fugit.”

Nora: “I need to freshen up. Where is the bathroom?”

Steven: “Down the corridor on the right.”

Nora left the room. She reached the bathroom and slowly opened the door. It was dark inside except for the moonlight shining through the window down into the bathtub. But the tub wasn’t empty: she could see the shape of a female body through the shower curtain. Holding her breath, she took a step towards the body and reached out for it. She could feel something wet on her fingertips. Suddenly the lights went on and she saw at a dead woman covered in blood.

Steven entered the bathroom.

Nora turned around and started to scream hysterically: “You killed her! You killed her! You monster!!!”

But Steven smiled and burst into laughter. He just couldn’t stop laughing until tears came into his eyes. Almost choking, he tried to explain: “May I introduce you to “Cold Ethyl”? Isn’t she lovely?”

Nora’s eyes widened with shock before she passed out.

Steven kneeled on the bathroom floor, lightly slapping Nora’s face and waving fresh air over her.

She slowly opened her eyes.

Steven: “I’m sorry, I forgot to take it away. It’s a practical joke meant for a friend of mine. This isn’t a real corpse: it’s a dummy made by a guy who makes them for horror movies. I just love to frighten people.”

He reached into the tub and picked up a bottle of stage blood.

Steven, calmly: “See, this is just paint, nothing but paint, Nora.”

She gave him a cold, angry look: “Steven, I hate you and I don’t want to see you ever again!”

Nora got up from the floor, picked up her handbag and left the apartment, slamming the door shut.

Adult voice in his head, sarcastically: “You really know how to treat women. No wonder you can’t get a living one. And you are the sloppiest serial killer ever.”

Steven: “Shut up. She believed my story about the practical joke.”

He got up, took “Ethyl” out of the tub and spread her on the floor. “Do you remember the fun we had last night? Making love by the refrigerator light? What about the bathroom  
floor? Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and not hurt you.” He undid his belt and started to unbutton his jeans.

 

Steven was lying on his bed in the mental hospital.

Steven: “Did that really happen? I can’t tell the difference between delusions and memories.”

Little boy’s voice: “I’m lost. I’m scared.”

The End


End file.
